


flitter, my friend/flutter, my heart

by azureforest



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Banter, Cooking, Established Relationship, General tomfoolery, M/M, Old Friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-09
Updated: 2019-04-09
Packaged: 2020-01-07 07:28:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18405971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azureforest/pseuds/azureforest
Summary: there's a kitchen near a back door of the vault, a hidden entrance for the servants hurrying to and fro. the kitchen is warm, smells of laughter, of light.adelphel ducks in through the doorway after a long day, and finds himself home.





	flitter, my friend/flutter, my heart

**Author's Note:**

> i don't know what possessed me to write this but it is good and its fine. now if youll excuse me, i gotta go lie facedown on the floor and cry
> 
> ambiguous timeline, could be pre-hw, during hw or post-reactor au where everythings fine, take your pick, and please enjoy!

“-And finally, a dash of pepper to finish the job.” An unnecessary flourish of the hand, long but calloused fingers curling delicately as Adelphel recites the recipe in a singsong tone- Janlenoux can’t help but roll his eyes, setting down another pan of roasted duck, fresh out of the oven- Spicier than the first, just as Ser Velleguine, Guerrique and Charibert like it. The other looks up at the clank of it on the counter and grins.

“Am I not correct? Are there any qualms you must put to voice, O Great Gourmet Of Mine?”

That gets a laugh out of him. “Nay, all is well. Will you help me with this as well, my beloved.” He stifles another chortle, “Cook in shining armor?”

Adelphel stands taller, hands on his hips, undeterred by the fact he is still in full plate save his hands, washed lest the other knight scold him, gauntlets gently placed on a table far out of the way of grease and spices. Instead, he only seems all the more enthusiastic, slotting strangely naturally into a kitchen where Janlenoux was working, drawn in by the smells and the promise of sneaky test-tasting.

“Naturally- ‘Tis my duty, after all! Now- Er, where did I put the pepper, again?”

He snuck a few honeyed potatoes out earlier that day, too- Those were for Ser Zephirin and his secret sweet tooth- But there was enough, and Janlenoux would’ve freely offered Adelphel the inevitable leftovers, regardless.

“Water basin,” Janlenoux calls over his shoulder as he turns to check on the sauce, simmering over low heat- Stirs it, ever-attentive to the click of his partner’s sollerets upon the floor even when he cannot see, a perfectly measured graceful stride; As graceful as one can get in armor, anyhow. Ever-graceful, ever-pristine Adelphel...

“And once more!” The popping of a lid breaks his thoughts, and Janlenoux swears he hears the other elezen imitate the noise of one of those handgonnes from Skysteele, pattering in rapid-fire.  _pew, pew, bam._

Where was he? Ah, yes. Ever-perfect Ser Adelphel de Chevraudan, playing about like a child in his kitchen.

Not that he minds. It’s a reminder, of sorts, that nothing could shake their trust. Never could the other be a bother, perhaps a distraction at best when he sneaks a cherry off a dessert, or when he drops one or the other vegetable or fruit from overestimating how much he can carry at once, or the time where he wiped at his eyes thoughtlessly while peeling onions- An odd noise escapes him at the memory of that quiet, horrified gasp and the undignified sight of blue eyes rimmed with red before the younger hurriedly rushed to running water. Adelphel-of-the-present shoots him a questioning look at the noise, at him covering his mouth upon realising that yes, that noise had been him. Humoring the other, Janlenoux turns around, mouths ‘ _onions_ ’, delights when the other’s nose wrinkles, dropping the decorative green he had been adjusting to his liking.

“Oh for the love of- Come now, it was _once_ , give it a rest, won't you?”

“It was _twice_ , mind you, and it was funny. Hilarious, if I may.” Janlenoux quips back, pouring a portion of the sauce into a small, separate dish- Noudenet was notoriously picky about sauce distribution, and he was not one to willingly face the mage’s irritation.

Adelphel honest-to-Halone _pouts_ in response, not helping the fact that the other elezen is doing his best to not grin too broadly. “You,” Adelphel grumbles, “are unfathomably terrible to me, ser.”

Said knight gestures offhandedly towards the icebox with a raised eyebrow. “Keep this up, and I may just withhold your portion of dessert.”

Blue gaze follows his hand, before Adelphel gasps, claps a hand over his mouth, eyes wide and absolutely scandalised.

“Cruel!” He exclaims, in poor imitation of agony, interlaced with with laughter and brief looks of _please don’t, you know i love ice cream_. “Monster! Scoundrel! I’d call the authorities, but we _are_ the authorities-”

“And _I_ am the authority in this kitchen, so long as the head chef is not present.”

A stare of defiance, one returned in kind. They both stand a little firmer, the situation escalating to a playful battle of wills between two paladins, two friends, with nothing at stake but their pride. And maybe dessert. “I am fifth seat of the Heaven’s Ward.” Adelphel announces.

A great, exasperated sigh. The other reaches for the oven mitts, transports the pot to the island where the roasted ducks wait. Is Janlenoux ignoring- No, he's turning around again, eyebrows raised, his darker eye closed, sightless one seemingly trained on the wall tile a ways behind him. Oh, that wonderful, awful blueberry man  _is_ ignoring him. How petty. “You know full well this is the most pathetic possible time to even attempt to lord that over me, Adelphel,” Janlenoux huffs.

The other’s squinting now, lovely brow scrunched up, trying to find an advantage on Janlenoux' home turf. Predictably, he found none. “... And if she were here? The head chef.” he asks instead, cautiously.

His partner thinks, nearly smearing sauce on his face from thoughtlessly attempting to tap the (sauce-covered) ladle against his cheek like he would a fountain pen. He catches himself last-moment. Adelphel makes a note to bring that up again later to heckle him, when ice cream- Perhaps even ice cream cake- isn’t potentially on the line.

A hum, mismatched eyes trailing downwards. “I’m quite certain she’d pass the same judgement I would, if not withhold dinner from you entirely for tracking snow in.”

He startles, spluttering, “I- what-? I did not--” -turns on his heel, looks toward the door, and goes slack.

“... Oh.” he says, softly, at the trail of grey water at the doorstep. Evidently, Adelphel had taken the shortcut past the rest of the building and made a beeline for the kitchen, for once without thought or reason. Red settles high on rosy cheeks, spreading to the tips of his ears. There’s a tiny sense of panic in his voice when he rounds upon a smug Janlenoux. They were at a tie again, damn him- Damn them both, it’s been years and they’re both still keeping count!

“Fu- Why didn't you tell me earlier?!” he squawks, wringing his hands, fumbling to grab his gauntlets and the mop propped up next to the door, face aflame. “I’ll- I’ll be right back, I’ll mop up the floor, heaven and seventh _hell_ this is terrible-” He’s already leaving through the door he came in through, gait hurried and ears twitching, surveying the halls to check the damage.

Janlenoux laughs so hard he snorts, swears Adelphel’s ears get even redder- Two childish stomps make their way into his steps, before he remembers he is, indeed, a man grown, and a knight of the Ward, still in uniform. He throws one last dirty look back at Janlenoux in his stained apron, his hair tied up in a ponytail, a loose strand brushing the pale column of his neck, eyes crinkled in mirth, shining in poorly concealed adoration.

(There’s a memory there, a line in a discarded letter he received, once- _if only i could be a hair upon your nape, kissing your skin_ \- But save that for later, save that poor but honest poetry to laugh at after dinner, tonight, in front of warm hearthfire, with mugs nestled in their hands as they struggle to beckon sleep’s siren towards them.

Janlenoux will know he means it.)

An affirmative handsign is thrown towards him- a bit of sauce flicks off with the movement, but the elezen doesn’t seem to care as much as Adelphel would. “I’ll take care of the floor, but shower while you're at it, you smell of roast and wet bloodhound-" Adelphel briefly looks insulted, then ruffles his own hair, sniffs his hand to check and finds that he only speaks the truth. He makes a  _face_.

"The duck isn’t going anywhere, either, unless I call Sers Grinnaux and Paulecrain in early.” Janlenoux adds, undeterred, merrily.

“I- Argh, fine, but _swive_ you!” He makes to leave, the fact that he hadn't washed only speeding his steps along, but of course his partner knows exactly when to not shut up.

“Fury’s heaving _tits_ , you _kiss_ me with that mouth?!” Janlenoux asks, voice audible across half the hallway, throwing his hands upwards, between an invitation and an exasperated shrug- One Adelphel knows how to respond to, even as he retreats. He slaps the mop down and pushes forwards over the telltale trail of melted snow, throwing back a final holler until when he comes back; It echoes slightly too loudly, but their part of the Vault is blessedly empty, and it wouldn’t matter, anyhow.

“I have and I will a thousand times more, but only if you give me dessert tonight!”

Bright laughter follows him down the path to his quarters, cut off only by a clatter of silverware and a garbled shout.

Adelphel laughs, too.

**Author's Note:**

> as always, kudos and comments are greatly appreciated! :D
> 
> let adelphel say fuck


End file.
